Why is alyssa.ax in English? Partly because it is my native language. Partly because writing has to remain sustainable. But also because English lets things travel — and because I think Åland is fascinating enough that more people should know what the hell goes on here.
There are distances on maps, and there are distances between lives—the quiet assumption that history happens to other people, in other places. On September 11, 2001 both gave way. A city I did not know became intimate through the mother of the classmate beside me; a landscape I knew by heart became part of the world’s memory. Manhattan entered my biography. Terror entered my childhood geography. Elsewhere became somewhere.
Some years are visible only in retrospect. What looked like a series of small decisions in 2025 was really a change in direction: toward greater visibility, harder truths, and a life increasingly unwilling to make itself smaller.
